Saint Mary's beacon., 1887-10-06


freedom from a life l loathed-your
life, which you yourself prayed me tc
let you lay down, as burden TIC
heavy for you to bear; your life, which
perhaps, spite of all my efforts, could
never save, and which might cost me
my own.
eat last, when l was well. nigh
spent. you slid from my grasp, and,
afraid to look at you again, I let the
devil have his way. and left you. The
The tempter had succeeded. and I. the
heir-I your more than brother-left
yon to the sleep of death, went on
ward alone to safety, wealth, and fool
that was thought to happiness.
"On, on through the storm | strug-
gled. The white curtain had closed
forever over you, and l dared not
look behind. On aud on, but still no
sign Of the station, and at last the
moan of waves told me the awful
truth. had wandered far from nv
course, and now nothing remained but
20 lie down and die. Not side-by-side
with you, as | should have done; not
at rest in innocence, as you had done,
but haunted and tortured, even to nv
last death.throb by the devil to whom
| had yielded. For time lay down,
and listened to the voices of the waves,
mingled with the cries of some sea-
gulls-those mariners mourners whose
even, undulating flight no storm seems
ever to disturb. Then | rose and
staggered on again. To me no dreamy
death drew near.
Il no longer sought to save my life;
nay, could l have chosen, l should
now have preferred death by your
side to escape without you. But it
was too late. To look for you now
would have been vain. | neither
knew where l had left you nor where
the inn lay. As l plodded mechani-
cally forward, staggering heavily at
every step, l caught glimpse of what
seemed to me a distant figure in the
snow. Huge and indistinct, at first
| could not make out its outline, until
a sudden rift in the storm revealed
to me two other wayfarer. battling,
like myself, with the elements. Madly
plunging forward, | tried to overtake
them, but the more | struggled the
deeper | sank in the drifts which now
engufed me, sometimes nearly to the
waist. Before | could reach them.
the white curtain of the storm swept
between US, and | was again alone.
From time to time it seemed to me
that caught sight of them, always
jnst beyond my reach. Dispair took
hold of me. | felt l was going mad.
With all my strength | tried to call
a;oud, but the wind drownded nv
voice. / was like one trying to CIV
out in a dream, and then think |
prayed.
Again the curtain parted for a
moment, and | saw my fellow.wan-
derers-two weary fgures, in long
gray cloaks, like those the Russian
soldiers wear-one Of them almost
carrying the other in his arms. But
slowly as they seemed to toll along,
they were still too fast for my most
frantic endeavors to overtake them:
nor did they ever turn their faces
toward rue. Again and again lost
sight Of them, and then my agony OF
mind bordered on insanity. Once, as
/ followed close behind them, they
disappeared SO entirely, that, fearing
to lose them altogether, | bent over
the spot to find their tracks, prefer
ring to feel my way along their foot
steps rather than be left utterly with
out guidance in that wilderness. In
vain. Behind me my own tracks
were scored deep and plain upon the
snow, but they were the only ones;
and before me all lay smooth and un-
broken. Their footsteps left on track.
"Once again the figures reappeared,
and again / followed them, for Aew
long we shall never know; but it,
seemed to me in my agony as il, like
the Wandering Jew, centuries rolled
by beneath my weary feet. At last,
the two paused, one of them had slip
ped from the others grip. and that
other stood bending over his COM
panion. With one supreme effort,
plunged forward, until was almost
within arm s length of them, and then
the snow held me-
Strive as | would to lift my feet,
they clung to the cruel snow-snow
that, instead of being as light as
feathers or sea foam, was now heavy
as lead or the burden of an unrepent-
ed crime.
MY lips froze and my power Of
speech CONCEALED.
my heart stood still on the very
brink of breaking. ! felt one word
would save me. could not say it.
Gold as the Christmas wind on the
steppeland was, a colder breath swept
over me as stood before those silent
gray forms which seemed to grow vast
and vague in the dancing snow
wreaths.
In some other life, at some other
time, | had known these two before.
As ! gazed, the wind rose louder,
wilder than before, and as it tore fu.
riously across the dreary waste, il
caught the cloak that shrOuded the